Earl of Sussex: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club)

by Tammy Andresen

  “Well, I spend my time feeding the homeless and helping at orphanages.” She raised her eyebrows, as though that meant something. Her hand came to her other hip. Even with his large hand encircling her waist, she had spirit. He found that he liked it immensely.

  “Yes?” His voice rumbled and he saw color rise in her cheeks. What was she thinking?

  “What do you spend your days doing, my lord?”

  Surprise again flitted across his features. The little chit was judging him. What was more, she had found him to be lacking. It was he who was supposed to reject her. “Why you little…”

  “Tut tut.” She raised her finger between them and he had the absurd urge to kiss it, lick it. Mayhap give it a little nibble. “You don’t want to marry me either, remember.”

  “With a tongue like that—” he started but he saw the hurt cross her face. Her luscious lips turned down at the corners, her eyes crinkled and her shoulders dropped. Then she straightened back up. He admired her tenacity and a little guilt wiggled through him that he had made her feel such. Truly he didn’t mind a little banter; in fact, he quite enjoyed it. A woman with no spark would be dull indeed and he shouldn’t have said it.

  “But you’re right about neither of us wanting to marry. What do you propose?”

  Her frown turned to a glowing smile in a second and he basked in its radiance. It lit her face, making him smile in return. “I’m so glad you agree. I can’t ruin our relationship. I’ll never socially recover. But you, you’re a known rake. You could be caught tupping a maid or—”

  His body clenched and damn it all to hell if his cock didn’t swell at the word tupping coming from her full sweet lips. If only he could tup her. The swell of her hips begged for his other hand. “Did you just suggest I tup a maid?”

  “Yes, but you must be caught.” She gave him an eager nod.

  “This is your plan?” His eyebrows lifted as he assessed her.

  One of her fingers rested on her bottom lip as she considered him. He wanted to replace that finger with his mouth. But she seemed unaware of how she was affecting him as she spoke. “My parents only told me of your visit this morning. I am sure they didn’t want me to have much time for planning.”

  His eyebrows rose higher. “Do you scheme often?”

  “Only when necessary.” Her tone implied that should be obvious. He tried to hide his grin. Damned if she wasn’t interesting.

  “You are a lady, how do you even know what tupping is?”

  “You’d be amazed what you hear when by the wall.” She gave him a grin. Her eyes danced with a merriment that was infectious.

  “You do realize whatever maid I was caught with would be sacked.” He crossed his arms then but immediately regretted it. He missed her heat under his hand, the feel of her body.

  But he had to stop thinking this way. While this entire conversation had been far more entertaining than he’d ever dreamed possible, it would probably be best to put it to an end.

  “Drat.” Her little slippered foot stomped on the plush carpet. He’d like to see that foot, and the calf attached to it. Perhaps he’d slide her skirt higher up her thigh until he…

  “Lady Tabitha, you’ve been over by that window for far too long. Please come back to the settee,” her chaperone called.

  “Keep thinking of ideas.” Her gloved hand rested upon his lapel covering his pin emblazoned with the W. His body clenched again and his fingers itched to return to her hip. “We must come up with a plan quickly. Meet me in the library tonight at the stroke of twelve so that we may decide what to do.”

  It was a terrible idea. If caught, there would be no escaping marriage. But, it was also exceedingly fun and the last thing he had ever expected from this meeting today. And so, he was absolutely going.

  Chapter 2

  Dinner had been the exact affair he would have expected coming to a duke’s country estate. A dull, tedious event full of bland conversation and, he had to admit, excellent wine.

  Though when his glass had been refilled, he’d seen Lady Tabitha eye him over the table and give a subtle shake of her head. Blasted woman. They weren’t even engaged yet and she was already limiting his alcohol.

  But he set the glass down and excused himself from the table. Meeting her eyes as he reached the door, he crooked his finger at her.

  Her eyes widened as she glanced around the table to see who might have noticed. But no one had.

  Stepping into the hall, he waited for more than a few minutes until she joined him. “Have you gone mad?” she hissed as she reached his side. “We’ll be married by the morning.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides, you’ve married us in your mind anyway, telling me not to drink.” He glared at her in accusation.

  She gave a little shrug. It highlighted the soft curve of her creamy shoulder. He followed the neck of her dress to where there was just a hint of cleavage visible above the ivory fabric. He’d love to lick the spot just above it, then—

  “I simply wanted you to have all your mental faculties this evening. It’s both our futures at stake here.”

  Well, that was a bloody good point. But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he stepped forward and whispered, “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

  She reached out her hand and gave him the tiniest little push. Heat radiated from the spot where she touched him. “From what I hear, some moderation would be good for you.”

  His eyes narrowed and he snatched up her hand that had just touched him, his other coming to her waist. Her very tiny waist, small enough he was sure he could circle it with his hands. But he wouldn’t be distracted now. What gossip was the ton saying about him? “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

  She gave a little gasp and he wasn’t sure if it was his question, the use of profanity, or the fact that he’d pulled her body close to his. But a little fire lit in her eyes as her mouth parted. It was stunning. All he need do was drop his head.

  He heated, his body and his mind responding to the challenge before him. He felt anticipation course through him at what she might say next. She didn’t disappoint. “Since it appears we’ve tossed out all rules of decorum, I’ll speak plainly. Do you deny that you are a rake?” Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened in a way that made her resemble prey. Something akin to a growl rumbled deep within his throat. He wasn’t offended. But speaking of his rakish ways, and the look on her face, made him long to practice them on her.

  “I make no bones about the fact that I have enjoyed a few willing women.” He pulled her completely against his body and the feel of her was delicious. Her soft curves molded to him in a way no other woman ever had.

  But her mouth formed an O. “What are you doing?”

  A chuckle erupted from his chest. “Relax, I said willing. Besides, I never dally with marriageable ladies.”

  Her fear was immediately replaced with disbelief. “Really, not even women like Lady Ravenna?”

  “How in the bloody blue blazes did you know about that?” He pressed her closer even as he blinked in disbelief. Just when he thought he’d had the upper hand.

  She waved her hand, turning away and pushing against his chest for distance. “You weren’t exactly subtle, I’m sure.”

  He let her push away though he instantly regretted it. Questions bubbled up to his lips. He’d called her out here to chastise her on her bad behavior but somehow it was him who was being chastised. A grin played at his lips. It was delightful. She was interesting, intelligent, and beautiful and he wanted to know more. “None of that matters. We are talking about our future--”

  “And that is why you need to keep from over imbibing. We’ll never escape the marriage noose if we don’t put our heads together.”

  That was an idea he liked immensely. Their heads together. He was about to tell her so when a movement at the door caught his attention.

  A young lady stood in the doorway, with the same auburn hair and flashing eyes as Lady Tabitha. Gri
pping her hands together, she looked earnestly at her sister. “Tabbie, get back in here. Your absence has been noticed. Mother will have a fit if you don’t—”

  Lady Tabitha sighed. “I’m coming, Tricia.” Then she turned back to him. “I will see you tonight.”

  Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “You most certainly will, Tabbie.”

  Tabbie tried to concentrate on the rest of the evening. But she barely listened to any of the conversation filtering around her. It wasn’t surprising to her that she was distracted. What was rather disconcerting was the cause. She should be dreaming up ways to escape this match not thinking about the feel of the earl’s arms. Luke, she’d heard the marchioness, his mother, whisper at dinner when he’d finally returned from the hall. She hadn’t sounded terribly pleased with her son.

  It briefly occurred to her that she might just marry him. Let him touch her in all sorts of delicious ways. She’d felt the proof of his…affection when he’d held her close.

  But that was a foolish idea that would only end in her heartbreak. He was a rake. He’d admitted it himself. Soon he would tire of her, only she wouldn’t be able to walk away. She’d be forced to watch as he found a new lady upon whom he could lavish his affection. She would go back to being the wallflower that he looked through in favor of a more attractive woman. It would shatter her to be rejected by him again.

  Shuddering, she closed her eyes. That was when she realized that the marquess was speaking to her. And she hadn’t been paying attention at all. “Forgive me,” she gave an apologetic smile.

  “I’ve heard a great deal about the charity work you’ve been participating in,” he repeated with a bland smile.

  She was proud of the work she’d done. Recently, she opened a shelter for women and their children who’d lost or never had a provider. It kept them clothed and fed and, in return, the women mended laundry. It gave them a far better option than the workhouse they might otherwise have to endure. She’d seen those places. They were almost worse than death.

  But she was adept at aristocratic conversation and she knew the man was simply being polite. She’d give him the briefest answer possible to excuse him from the discussion. “Thank you, my lord. It is very fulfilling.”

  She expected the marquess to nod and turn away but his eyes were intent upon her. “Will you keep up such activities after you are wed?”

  It was a trap. There was something about her he wanted to know. She was a candidate for his son. Of course his interest was more than casual.

  Her father glared at her down the table, his warning to keep her tongue sweet ringing in her ears. With a sigh, she gave the expected answer rather than one she really wanted to say. “It will be up to my husband.”

  The marquess gave her a satisfied nod and then turned away, but Luke’s eyes were intent upon her. One of his eyebrows rose in question and she ducked her head to keep from grinning.

  It was as though they were having a silent conversation across the table, one where he understood the subtext of her comment, the person she was when she wasn’t pretending to be the lady her parents wanted her to be.

  They’d known each other for hours and yet he understood her already. How peculiar.

  As dinner finished, the men retired to smoke and Tabbie prepared to wait until it was time for her midnight meeting.

  Two hours later she debated changing out of her evening gown, but opted to leave it on. Luke would likely still be in his waistcoat, tailcoat, and cravat and she didn’t want to be at a disadvantage. Her clothing would be like armor. If she were wearing it, this would seem like any other social engagement and not the clandestine meeting it resembled.

  Though she had no untoward intentions. Unless, of course, scheming to end an engagement counted as untoward. Which it likely did. But she was not here for a tryst, no matter how handsome he was. Or how his lips tempted her. And certainly not because, despite having only known her for a few hours, he seemed to really see her, to understand who she was beneath the façade she presented as a duke’s daughter.

  Perching on a windowsill, she pushed open the glass and stared out at the night sky, a clear spring evening, the moon shining brightly into the room. It bathed her in a pale light and she turned her face up to it, enjoying the quiet this time of night brought.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she took a breath of damp air filtering in from the outside. It gave her a slight chill but in a way that was invigorating. She shivered and goosebumps started forming on her arms, but a smile touched her lips. Meeting with a handsome man to hatch a plot was so exciting.

  The slightest noise behind her made her eyes flutter open but before she could even turn, a hand had enveloped her arm and warm breath blew across her cheek. “You look stunning like that, bathed in moonlight.”

  Luke. His hand was warm and strong, heating her skin. “That is likely because you lack for a better view.”

  “You doubt your own appeal?” His lips grazed her earlobe, sending shivers of a different kind entirely racing along her skin.

  “To you? Most decidedly.” Even on her best day she wouldn’t keep the attention of a man like him for very long. Which was exactly why she had to focus on their plot to escape this engagement.

  He didn’t back up. If anything, he pressed closer. “You should give yourself more credit, my little Tabbie.”

  She turned to speak to him then. But he was so close and as her head twisted, their lips brushed together. It was soft and gentle and a complete accident. Still seated on the sill, she couldn’t go very far, but she wrenched her head back. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to—”

  But her words were cut off as his head dipped back down, taking her lips again. This was not the soft brush of moments before, this was a claiming. Soft, yet firm lips pressed against hers, making her pulse race.

  His lips left hers for a second only to press against hers again, over and over. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as his hands drifted to her cheeks. His palms held her face as his fingers spread into her hair. Her own hands drifted to his chest, grasping fistfuls of his waistcoat. Without which, she was sure she would go spinning off the sill. His kisses had sent her body careening out of control.

  He finally lifted his head and while part of her desperately wanted him to bring his lips back to hers, another saner part fought to gain control of her body. She swallowed. “What just happened?” she managed to croak out.

  He was still so close, his hands holding her head, his lips only a few inches from hers. “I kissed you.”

  Her eyes focused in a little more. “I’m aware of that. I just didn’t expect it to be so…” Consuming. That was the only word that might describe how she felt now. In this moment, she’d likely give him everything that was hers to offer if he’d only kiss her again.

  “Was it better or worse than the kisses before it?” His eyes were narrowing and assessing her with an intensity that was alarming, as though her answer mattered.

  “I…” Her cheeks heated. He knew she was a wallflower, but it still embarrassed her to admit the truth. “I don’t have any experience with which to compare.”

  He made a sound, rough and masculine, deep in his throat. She didn’t know what it meant but the next moment, he was pulling her up off the sill, wrapping her in his arms as his lips descended again. Over and over they claimed hers until he slanted them open and his tongue slid against hers. If she had heated before, she was aflame now and a moan escaped her lips to be swallowed by his.

  His hands slid back up, skimming across her shoulders, brushing her neck, twining into her hair. Her insides ached with need and she pressed against him, the feel of his body increasing the torturous pleasure in the most delightful way.

  And then his lips were gone. She blinked, trying to right the tilting room, wishing to find his kiss again. “I didn’t know it would be like that.” Was that her voice? So raspy and wanton?

  “Neither did I.” He was still holding her close, his hands in her hair, and his lips g
razed her temple.

  Her head snapped back, their eyes meeting, the haze of the kiss clearing. “You can’t tell me you haven’t kissed anyone. That is ridiculous.”

  His expression was forlorn as he seemed to drink her in with his gaze, devouring every detail. “When you are betrothed to your future husband and he kisses you, you will discover that not all kisses are created equal. When your bones don’t melt and the room doesn’t spin, you will understand that this kiss was special.”

  “How…how did you know that was how I responded?” Her eyes were round with wonder. Had he read her mind?

  “I didn’t. I was talking about me.” He stepped away then, his face pained.

  She nearly stumbled as he stopped supporting her and she grabbed the sill so she would remain on her feet. “Oh, I don’t know what to say. I am sure other women have made you feel this way. I—”

  “Tabbie.” His voice was rough again, his breathing still ragged. “I am leaving tonight.”

  She blinked twice. What was he talking about? “Why? Was it the kiss? I didn’t mean to. It won’t happen again.”

  He shook his head. “I am going to find a woman. One who doesn’t work here. We’ll put her in a uniform for your plan. Your father will figure it out when he can’t actually find the maid he needs to sack, but it will be too late by then.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? Likely because she’d been daydreaming about his lips.

  “I’ve hatched a few plots in my day.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. We can put our plan into action at the ball tomorrow night.”

  Well that was terribly efficient of him. She should be excited; it was her idea to begin with. But now, all she could feel was dread.

  Chapter 3

  Luke watched the sun rise and marveled at how much better it felt to stay up all night when he hadn’t imbibed alcohol.

  He was on the outskirts of London and though he longed to have this business done, he knew he should go to his townhouse and get a few hours’ sleep. Then he could visit the club when it was closer to the noon meal. Several men would be there along with many of the ladies who were employed at the club. They were the kind of woman whose help he needed this evening.